


The Steins

by shitkai



Category: Original Work
Genre: Frankinstein (but with my ocs), Gay Harem, M/M, im sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-05-31 07:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6460903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shitkai/pseuds/shitkai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Frank gets caught in some brotherly rivalry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> Hey I've actually been meaning to post this for awhile, which means all upcoming chapters are prewritten! The only thing you need to fear in terms of updates is me actually retyping them and posting which should be easy, so please enjoy.

  My name is Frank Indigo Stein. People call me Frank-In.-Stein, but I personally do not like that very much. I live with my master, the Doctor, the man who created me, in a secluded mansion. Many of my master's subordinates say he is a loyal man when it comes to his work.

  But my opinion of him being a _"loyal man"_ is questioned when he does not act as such when he stays out late.

  My master, the Doctor, is not a bad man.

  He does not act unorderly… Well, when he's sober he does not.

  I'm his assistant, I have been ever since I was "born," and I know him better than anyone else; aside from his own brothers, if you will.

  But lately it's as if I _don't_ know him. He's been staying out late every few days a week for the past three months.

 

  Enough about that.

 

  Today is February 5th. The day of my creation. My master has told me time and time again that this particular day is special. That it is my "Birthday." But I do not see it as any other date in the year. The Doctor always goes the extra mile for me though. Purchasing cakes and other sweet confectionery at local bakeries and markets.

  It warms me, truly, it does.

  But I doubt he'll make it to the so-called,"Celebration" this year. So much for turning 21.

 

  My master had built me with the parts of a 16 year old male, and ever since then, I've been growing. This makes me basically 5 years old if you may, but I assure you, my body, and time I have been living do not shape my maturity. My brain does, _thank-you-very-much_.

  I am known to be a scientific creation, a living wonder so to speak. The proof that resurrection exists, and the fact that my master is the creator of such a theory… That the nonliving can live once more…

  That I am the proof of such a theory… That alone is enough to satisfy me.

  Standing beside such an intelligent man… That is worth more to me than any "birthday" spent alone.


	2. Ernest Stein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sir Ernest's introductory chapter or something, enjoy this embarrassing mess.

        **_Day 1_**

 

  Sir Ernest has come to visit me today. That is not a rare occurrence, but oh how I wish it was so. He is the eldest of the Stein relatives.

  My master's older brother.

  Ernest is a good man, he is serious about his work. So serious, he is said to have no time to pursue a relationship. He is a bachelor, also at 27 years of age, he is the exact age of my master.

  At first I had trouble understanding the reasons as to why Sir Ernest was considered the eldest when he and my master were "born" on the same date, but he had explained to me that they were,"fraternal twins," a term I still can't seem to grasp the meaning of.

  Sir Ernest may be a good and hardworking man, but every time he comes around the mansion of my master, he succeeds to make me uncomfortable, even his smallest gestures come off as _too_ coquettish to me.

  Now I am not conceited, nor do I have any hope of such a theory being true, but I have suspicion that Sir Ernest is making rather brazen advances towards I, Frank Stein. I harbor no romantic feelings towards Sir Ernest, but I am not absolute in the prospect of that being the same the other way around.

 

  But today confirmed my beliefs.

  Just sheer eye contact with Sir Ernest chills me, makes me shudder, and the fact that he has visited my master's estate, while he was out on his weekly dwadle, baffled me. It was silent that night, not a drop of rain, nor a looming cloud to hint at such, when I heard the doorbell ring.

  When the figure appeared to be Sir Ernest, I felt my shoulders drop, almost, if not completely, displeased by my master's absence.

  "Is the Doctor with you, Sir Ernest?"

  "I've just come to visit, is he not in?"

  I don't like the smile in his voice and the mirth in his hetero chromic eyes. I quickly advert my gaze to my dark shoes,"No, he hasn't made it back yet."

  I immediately regret saying that, because he'd seemed to invite himself in. More into my personal space than into the manor. This is exactly when all of the red flags in my mind shot up.

  I saw him step forward, in which I took a step back. Another step forward, another step back. One forward, in which I mirrored in reverse.

  I was trapped against a marble wall in the mansion, only the book in my arms to aid the trembling in my hands.

  I wanted to get distance between us again somehow.

  I visibly noted that my master's brother had closed the door behind himself in his pursuit of me. At least he had manners.

  For a while too long, all he did was stare, obviously fixated on my face for some reason. "This is my first time seeing your face up close," he says with a suaveness all too familiar to him.

  "The skin components that make up my 'face'," I say, expression unmoving yet somehow perturbed,"are not, nor have ever belonged to me. They are merely sewn on to keep me together."

 

  The silence that followed shortly after my statement was short lived as Sir Ernest laughed. I almost felt the utter _glee_ and satisfaction oozing from him in waves with each chuckle. I felt as if I was being rocked with each lift of his shaking shoulders. I'm sure he'd found amusement upon my expressionless face and confused disposition, because his laughter struck once more, booming with thunderous strength.

  It was apparent that I hadn't gotten the joke.

  "You…" Sir Ernest chuckled,"Are _exactly_ why I love visiting my brother." He finished, sounding as content as a man whom had eaten a meal fit for a king.

  "Let us go to the kitchen, you know how to make tea, don't you?"

  I nod inaudibly, hiding my flushed face behind the hard cover of my book.

  "Isn't it a bit rude to not offer a guest some tea…?" He scolds me playfully.

  Sir Ernest grins, and my eyebrow quirks inquisitively from the question. I bite back a curt reply that would have informed my master's brother that I _had not_ invited him in and that he was technically _not_ a guest. But alas… I hold my tongue (a phrase I recently learned was not to be taken seriously), and opt for guiding Sir Ernest to the kitchen for tea.

 

  Now do not misunderstand, but Sir Ernest is not an unattractive man. His eyes are a shade of blue and green, something intriguing yet strange to me. It's not hard to get lost in them as well… And his proximity… It is enough for any maiden to become light headed and weak in the knees.

  But I am _not_ a maiden.

  I'm not trying to be lost in one's gaze, be wooed by eye contact and flirtatious benevolence, or be swept off of my feet at all. Period.

  Warm hands encircle mine as they tip the teapot back from the mug I was pouring tea in. The chest against my shoulder blades is firm, warmer than the hands on mine.

  "You're pouring too much, Frank. It'll overflow." Sir Ernest mumbles in my ear.

 

        I freeze cold.

 

  The fear jolts me, adrenaline pumping through veins I never even knew I had. My body moves on its own accord, swiftly turning around to break free from such an alien intimacy forced upon me so suddenly.

  The next thing that surpasses the sound of my blood rushing to my ears, is the spew of curses echoing throughout the room.

  _"By the Devil's scorching flames–!"_

   I feel myself calm significantly, looking over to the source of such agony.

 

   Tea.

  Hot, scalding tea.

  I had spilled it all upon Sir Ernest.

 

  "Sir Ernest! Pardon me! Pardon me!" I half shout, genuinely apologetic and bewildered at my own carelessness.

  "Towel?" I look around until my eyes settle on the unfamiliar voice at the kitchen entryway.

  The Doctor!? "Master!" I say gleefully, rushing over to him and hurriedly bowing before taking the towel and tending to Sir Ernest.

  My master sighs,"We've talked about the formal terms, just Victor or Doc, Franki."

  He is apparently paying no heed to his brothers need of aid.

  The tea was spilt right upon the front of Sir Ernest's pants, so listening to my master and trying to tend to his eldest's nether regions proved disorienting.

  "Ach, thank you, Frank." Sir Ernest says quietly, possibly– dare I say it– _enjoying_ the position we're currently in. I was sure that if my master hadn't been at the scene, Sir Ernest would have tangled his fingers in my hair instead of gripping my shoulder to help me up. 

  Apart of me, for good reason, wishes I had more tea to spill on him.

  I put the towel in his hand, feeling uncomfortable with the pair of eyes on me, and gave my master's brother an embarrassed bow in apology.

 

  "Master—"

  "Victor." He stops me.

  "Vic…tor…" I say slowly, experimentally.

 

  Sir Ernest puts his hand on my shoulder, dragging his palm lightly down the side of my arm to hold my hand.

  "Thank you for the tea." He says, pulling my hand up to his lips and pressing a chaste kiss to the back of my palm.

  A warmth spreads throughout my cheeks as I whirl away from him, steering myself clear from further embarrassment.

  "No problem." I say smoothly, looking down at my nervously shuffling feet. "Again, I d-deeply apologize for the—"

  "No need." Sir Ernest says swiftly, lifting his hands in surrender and flashing a brisk smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

 

  He hands my master the towel, clapping his hand on his shoulder and murmuring something of which I could not hear, before taking his leave.


	3. Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope you weren't expecting no angst… because…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, oops.

  The silence that lingered after Sir Ernest's departure made my clammy palms seek refuge in the pockets of my dress pants. I felt the air being squeezed from my lungs with each second the Doctor's gaze constricted me. The reason he had not dismissed me to my chambers as usual, I had not known. I did not move, I had no authority to.

  "Should I…" I began, biting back my lip.

  "Should I clean the tea?"

  The Doctor made no move to answer me, which only heightened my need to get out of the room. I saw him pinch the bridge of his nose, right upon the scar he has there.

  Briefly, I wondered what it was that Sir Ernest had spoken to him about minutes before.

  "Frank."

  The usage of my name without the endearing "Franki" ring to it made me jump, hands scrambling to find my book in preparation for my retreat. My arms clutch the hardcover to my chest, my hands shaking and thick with sweat from my nervousness.

  "Yes, Victor?" I respond, the name slipping off of my tongue easier than before.

  "What… Happened between you and my brother?"

 

  Now I am not one to be disobedient, but then and there I felt the anger within me boil over like the hot tea I had spilled upon Sir Ernest.

  "I should ask the same of you." I said sternly, spitting out the words like lethal venom. I had been gripping my book so hard, I felt a few stitches on my hands pop from my strength.

  "A-And might I add," I began, no longer able to keep my master's gaze,"What happened all of those nights you've been absent from the manor before tonight?!"

       I had been screaming.

 

           Why was I screaming?

  "The makeup on your collar!" My voice is filling every empty crevice in the mansion as the images flash in my mind, chilling me to my core. "The perfume on your clothes! I—" I hadn't even felt the warmth emanating off of the warm chest before me until it was so close I felt as if I was stepping into a fire.

  I might as well been.

  My master held my wrists above my head, my book long forgotten as my back hit the counter.

  For a long, long moment, I stared into his eyes. For a second, I thought I'd get lost in them.

 

         " ** _None_** of that is your business."

 

  I let that sink in, the anger in me dimming immediately.

  Then and there, sitting limp in my master's arms, weak from the shouting, weak from the anger, I knew.

 

_I knew I was nothing more than a creation._

_And the Doctor was my master._

_I was not human. I was not his equal._

 

  Tears. Hot, salty, and all too familiar welled up in my eyes. I was physically and emotionally exhausted, my body slumping against my master.

  Funny how he is my one reason for living, and my other reason for wishing I didn't.

  I wept, hard into his chest, staining his tie with my tears. A part of me hoped we could stay close like this. With the Doctor holding me close and my legs feeling as if they'd give out. Even through dewdropped lashes and glazed over eyes, I could see his blue orbs, piercing into my murky green ones.

  "Franki–"

  "Nothing." I say quietly, licking my dry lips.

  "I'm sorr–" he attempts.

  "Nothing happened between Sir Ernest and I." I finish swiftly, wondering what that _look_ the Doctor had given me meant.

  I sniffled, breaking free from my master's grasp and moving to pick up my discarded book.

  "Am I dismissed to my chambers yet, master?" I ask, back turned to him and eyes trained steadily on the kitchen entrance.

  He made no move to correct what I had called him.

  "Goodnight Frank."

  I turned to face him, bowed, and left, not meeting his gaze once as I departed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this was supposed to be apart of the last chapter but I was so eager to post Sir Ernest getting tea on his crotch that I just wanted to post the angst separately.


	4. Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank has fun sort of, not really

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long chapter for all your long chapter needs.

        **_Day 2_**

  
  Have you ever tried to run from something but found it arduous to avoid? I feel as if, ever since that night… Sir Ernest's warmth, along with my master's… Proved to be impossible to forget.

  It was like playing with fire.

  Sir Ernest's flames enveloping me so swiftly I had no time to react, heat spreading throughout me, willingly inviting me to burn. Whilst my master's was distant. An aloof fire, yet a blaze that burned so brightly, like a fireplace set aflame in a pitch black room. So far away, yet all the more alluring.

  It has been two weeks since my heart had been tossed every which way, and it was now Sir William's birthday. February 21st.

  Now I am particularly fond of the most puerile of the Stein brothers. He isn't as intimidating with his authority and proximity like Sir Ernest, or as priggish as my master with his strapping masculinity and mysterious aura.

  No, Sir William is a kind (yet too wordy) man, whom I've come to recognize as one I can confide in.

  Who knew chatterboxes made for such good listeners?

  Aside from the man himself, I feel as if attending his birthday party and seeing him would help me.

  Still I am not positive that an option of me being able to attend will be presenting itself anytime soon.

 

  Two weeks…

 

  Two whole weeks, I, Frank Stein, has refused to speak to my master.

  That is pathetic of me, I know, but what makes me feel most pathetic is the thought that I had stripped myself free of shame and years of obedience in some " _spur of the moment_." I am disgusted with myself.

  I am disgusted with my master as well.

  I may not be his equal, but I am not a child. I live under the same roof as him, I've done nothing secrecy within these walls. All of my sins, my good deeds, I've confessed to my master. " _None of my business_ " he says… It makes my face heat in anger each time I recall the memory.

 

  Where was I?

  Ah, yes, Sir William's birthday.

 

  The reason for my unease in terms of attending said party is that I have apprehension in being able to wholeheartedly enjoy and indulge in the festivities while in the same room as Sir Ernest and my master.

  But it would be nice to see Sir William.

  I make my way down the stairs after longingly gazing in the mirror at my reflection, surprised to see three sets of eyes on me. I stand quietly on the staircase, clutching my hands into fists at my sides and shuffling nervously.

  Sir William and Sir Ernest are outside of the front door, talking to my master. Well, _had_ been talking, before I made a move to accompany them.

  "Good afternoon…" I say shyly, bowing my head, my eyes not lifting along with my head.

  "Franki." My master acknowledges me.

  "Yo." Sir Ernest tips his hat.

  " _Ahem_."

  I look up at Sir William, his electric green eyes boring into my darker ones. The hard, forced cough he gives obviously voices his displeasure, making my stomach lurch nervously with the notion that I've done something wrong so early in the day.

  "Anything to _say_?" Sir William quirks his eyebrow at me, and I panic, genuinely unsure of what is being asked of me. "I-I uh… I—"

  " _Happy_ …" Sir Ernest hints at me, and (while ignoring his cheeky grin), I finally understand.

  "Sir William!" I say smiling as best as I can through my discomfort of being stared at.

  "Happy 24th birthday!"

  Sir Ernest's smile is bright, but not as bright as Sir William's as the blond pushes past my master and comes at me with open arms.

  Desperate for some much needed affection, I meet him halfway down the stairs for a hug. I wonder what is the deal with all of the brothers and being so _warm_?

  I smile at him when he pulls back to look at me, thankful to be able to genuinely smile for once.

  "You get bigger everyday…"

  I snort. "You shouldn't speak to me like a child, you are only 3 years older than me, Sir William."

  "So I am," he laughs effortlessly.  
Oh how I wish such joy would be imprinted on me.

  I look over to my master and Sir Ernest, still at the doorway with expressions of which I can't seem to decipher.

 

* * *

  
        _**Later…**_

  
  I sit in the middle of the car, the leather seat feeling as warm on my back as the sun on my face from the window. Sir William is at my side, gazing out of the window contently. Where his driver is taking us, I do not know.

  "Do you drink, Indigo?"

  "Just call me Frank." I say smoothly.

  We sit in silence.

  "No. I'm afraid I've never attempted to drink." I finally answer.

  The press of our thighs and occasional bump of our shoulders makes me self aware of our closeness.

  We are not many years apart, but still, Sir William is taller than I, not so much more so than his brothers, but a good four inches over me.

  "Something seems to be bothering you." He says it more like a statement than a question, and despite his kind and inviting tone of voice, I shy away instantly.

  "Why do you ask?" I say, full-well knowing that he wasn't asking in the first place. He looked at me, before looking right back outside of the window, a small smile gracing his lips. He doesn't seem to want to answer.

  "Will there be alcohol?" I press him.

  "I am but of a man," he laughs,"Who's to say there won't be?"

  "And if there is?"

  Sir William flashes a coy look for the umpteenth time since we've departed.

  "What are you planning?" I insist, _almost_ grabbing him by his collar and shaking him.

  "I'm not _planning_ anything."

  I stare at him outlandishly, shoulders slumping in defeat. I don't want to ask more questions I'll never get clear answers to.

 

 

* * *

 

  The party was the worst. The food was wonderful, it is not often that I get to indulge in my "Sweet Tooth," but other than the food, the party was the worst.

  I had never in my life danced before, I promise you that. So when Sir William escorted me to the dance floor, my legs felt like jelly on the rest of my body.

  Sir William held me close, the warmth emanating off of him like earlier in the car as he and I moved to the beat. Or at least we tried to anyway.

  Now he had never been much of a dancer either, this I knew. His feet haphazardly bumped into mine, our legs and arms jumbling together like spaghetti in boiling water.

  He wasn't like Sir Ernest, who I'm sure would spin me endlessly only to have me land safe in his arms. Wooing me with each beat and guiding me with practiced ease.

  Or like how my master would've been, holding me close, but not too close (his approach to everything), and letting his hands rest wherever, leading me with the the grace and confidence of a man who knows what he's doing.

  No, Sir William was all over the place, but we still danced and smiled, laughing as we got tangled in each other. A mess of limbs and music, spinning until I thought the stitches on my legs would burst at the seems.

  In the blur of the party lights and the grinning face of Sir William, I almost forgot where I was.

  But that all became clear when I landed in the arms of my master, my face flushed from intoxication and mind muddled from all of the twirling.

  The world seemed to be twirling.  
Off of it's axis, off of it's hinges, _twirling, twirling_. I was being dragged away. Where was the Doctor taking me?

  After I felt my eyes sting from the brightness of the new room the Doctor brought me in, I realized.

 

  _The world wasn't twirling.  
    The room was spinning._

 

  I lurched forward, unable to hold back the bile in my throat. I was in the bathroom? That was good.

  The water-vomit mixture in the toilet before me had stopped whirling uncomfortably, and I was suddenly grateful for the warm had on my back.

  "Better?" My master said, patting my shoulder blades tenderly.

  I looked up at him, bleary eyed until my vision seemed to focus on his face. _How did he know I'd throw up?_

  "Why'd you bring me here?" I say aloud.

  The Doctor studies my face for a moment, and I look down at the water I regurgitated all of the contents in my stomach into. I was certain that if I hadn't looked away, I'd kiss him. Something you _shouldn't_ do after losing your lunch.

  "You looked sick." He says dully.

  "Are we to go back to the estate?"

  He hasn't looked away from my face. I haven't looked away from my vomit.

  "Hey," his hand stops rubbing my back, and I decide to flush the toilet. I hum in acknowledgement, still not meeting his gaze. Still not feeling sober enough to.

  "Are you having fun?"

  "That's not like you… To ask such a thing."

  "I know." He sounds more like he's speaking _through_ me than _to_ me.

  I wish our conversations weren't so tense.

  "I've had enough fun." I finally answer, wondering if this is the kind of thing my master indulges in weekly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed Sir William's introduction! I'm sorry if you didn't, regardless you'll see more of him in the next few chapters.


	5. William Stein

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As promised more William :^)

        _ **Day 3**_

 

  
  A few days after the party, Sir William showed up to the estate asking for me. A part of me didn't want to go with him, but the other part of me wanted to escape those _looks_ my master kept giving me every time we crossed paths in the mansion.

  Reluctant yet willing, I got dressed and made my way out with Sir William. He kissed the back of my hand with all the grace of Sir Ernest, yet held me close in a hug with the genuine kindness unique to only him.

  I smiled, wrapping my arms around him and pulling away after a short while.

  In the car, we sat in silence, Sir William looking at me and out of the window interchangeably. I wanted to know what it was that he'd been thinking about, but at the same time I found comfort in not knowing.

  "Where are we off to?" I say, attempting to spark up idle conversation.

  Sir William lets his chin rest on his open palm, eyes skidding back over to the passing trees and worn pavement outside of the window.

  "Anywhere."

  I roll my eyes at the youngest Stein, his utter nonchalance almost comical. I stifle my humor though, my fingers absentmindedly drumming against my thighs. I look to the window, before I feel the warmth of Sir William's hand against my knee. I look down, face flushing considerably at the realization of how close we were. I look up, visibly noting the specks of red kissing his cheeks as well.

  "Well, actually…" he starts, "The reason I brought you out was because, I.…"

  I can see how the light of day shines so vividly against his neatly parted, neatly cut, dirty blonde hair, staining it white with its brightness. He looks ethereal almost, like an angel.

  Sir William sighed, moving his palm from my knee to scratch the back of his neck self consciously.

  "I wanted to apologize for the party. I shouldn't have forced you to drink as much as you did."

  Such a good lie. _Almost_.

  He hadn't forced me to drink anything, but I was still touched by the fact that he'd held himself responsible, being that it was his party.

  "I just wanted to make up for anything you've regret at my party," I can think of a Few things,"This is me… reimbursing you… For any inconveniences that may have occurred."

  _He could have just showed up to the manor and apologized._

  I scoff, taking his hand in mine and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

  "Gee, do you like blaming yourself for things out of your control?" I joke, smiling up at him. He smiles back, and I suddenly feel the need to keep him smiling well up in my chest.

  His hand untangles itself from mine only to grab my wrist, tugging me forward _too_ suddenly, our faces inches apart. I sit pliant under his gaze, awaiting his next move.

  Sir William's grasp on my wrist isn't forceful, isn't meant to maim me in any way, yet his touch is electric, hard and shocking on my skin. I feel our breaths mingling due to how close our faces are, searching his eyes for something, _anything_.

  "Frank." His voice brings me back from my drifting.

  Suddenly feeling shy, I place my free hand on his chest and push him away, my face burning a fierce scarlet.

  Silence.

  "Ah…I… You don't need to apologize Sir William." I say clumsily in advance, knowing full well that he would try to after I pushed him away.

  His hand leaves from where it was wrapped around my wrist, and he makes more distance between us,"Apologies are for regrets, I would only be sorry if you were not interested."

  He made no move to ask if I actually were " _interested_ ," and I made no move to clarify if I had been.

  _I wasn't even sure myself._

  "W-Where are we off to?" I say, automatically feeling dumb for having already asked that. "I mean, I'm famished, so I thought it'd be nice to visit a diner in town."

  I was lying. I wasn't hungry at all.

 

* * *

 

 

          _ **Later…**_

 

  That day at the diner, Sir William and I talked about his elder brothers.

  We laughed, joked, and I even confessed my lingering unease with my master. I had never felt so open with anyone before, and I was grateful for being able to confide in him. He listened to me, and I to him, as we ate lunch.

  "I wonder… What this means…" I say, putting down my barely eaten sandwich. I had just spoken about my dilemma with Sir Ernest and the Doctor, and judging by Sir William's face, he was just as confused as I was on the matter.

  "I think…" the blond before me started slowly,"That my brothers have taken a liking to you… and are supposedly trying to stake their claim over you." I nod, despite my unease at how alien the _ire_ in Sir William's eyes is.

  He continues. "They're going about expressing their feelings towards you all wrong. It's as if my eldest Ernest's unstoppable libido, and my dear Victor's possessiveness yet distance has enclosed you in a box, has it not?"

  I finally exhale the breath I'd been holding, relief flooding through every pore in my body. I nod vigorously,"Yes! _Yes_ , that's _exactly_ how I feel, Sir Wil–"

  He puts up his hand to halt me from speaking further, needless to say, it works.

  We sit in silence for awhile, me looking at him while he looks down at the dish he ordered intently. He puts his hand down in one slow, fluid motion, not looking up.

  "I'm sorry if it seems as if I'm forcing my clemency on you, Frank, or if I'm smothering you in any way…"

  " _Eh_?"

  "But I…" I see Sir William's fists tighten on the table. "I can't stomach the thought of you losing yourself in the storm that's brewing."

  I swallow, starting to ask what the meaning of that was, but like a psychic, Sir William was speaking more on his own accord.

  "My brothers have always been aggressive. Being twins, they were always at each other's throats. And I…"

  I see his knuckles grow white from being balled so tight.

  "…I could never catch up, I've always been several steps behind, which is why, even now, even today, I don't feel as if what I'm doing is enough,"

  I swallow, the words sitting heavily on my shoulders like armor.

  "But I want to protect you."

  His fingers unfurl from the fists he'd curled them in, before he breathed out a deep sigh. A reassuring yet forced smile graces his lips to soothe me, or to convince himself that things are okay.

  _I do not know which of these were the right answer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger, I was going to add the rest but I didn't want this update to be too long, so there will be a continuation of this in the next chapter in opposed to starting a day 4.


	6. Turmoil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 continued. As promised! :^)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay first I'd like to apologize for the wait but a lot has been going on, also thank you for the kudos, they mean so much！！

  "Protect me…?" I wet my dry lips,"from what exactly?"

  He reaches across the table and holds my hand with a tenderness that makes my face redden. I shy away, folding in on myself, but not unwelcoming how Sir William laces our fingers together.

  "From my brothers." He breathes. "From myself."

  I don't want to know what he means by that, but he continues to speak like the chatterbox he is.

  "It seems my older brothers are in the same predicament as I, unable to convey our feelings for you."

  My face warms considerably, feigning the appearance of a tomato. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, and I almost miss it when Sir William beckons me to his car once more.

  I am lead outside by the hand of Sir William and ushered to his vehicle. We both slip into the back seat, and I visibly note how he closes the opening in which lets the driver see us and vise versa.

  That action alone makes the worry in me spark and my hands grow clammy, but I do not speak of it nor make any move to.

  "Frank…" I feel my body stiffen at the gruff tone of his voice, my hand sweating so much I think it'll slip out of Sir William's.

  "There is something I must confess to you."

  I do not want to hear it.

  "Frank… I…"

  He's so close to me in the back of the car, and I can make out the look of longing, wanton in his eyes. I feel myself tense more when he turns to face me so boldly.

  "What is it?" I croak out, feeling as if I'll be suffocated by the silence if someone doesn't say something soon.

  His free hand moves to my shoulder, beckoning me to face him. I follow his movements fluently so that he is not forcing me to turn to him, yet I am not doing so on my own accord.

  His hand grips my shoulder lightly, the pad of his thumb kneading soothingly into the tense knot there. I hear a faint ' _pop_ ' when he massages my shoulder blade, my head lolling to the side as I visibly relax.

  I wasn't expecting him to do that, but his free hand feels excruciatingly good on me. For a hot second, I forget where we are.

  The heat pools in my abdomen when Sir William's hand moves to my dark unruly hair, and I feel like I'm falling.

_Deeper…  
    Deeper…_

  He's so close, so warm against me, and I have to hold his shoulders to still my dizzy head.

  " _Frank_ …"

  I feel his breath against my lips, just like earlier, the world around us becoming a distant fog.

  I can't breathe when his lips capture mine, I don't want to. His lips are soft, so gentle against mine, and I can't control the urge to lean into the intimate gesture. His hand in my hair is pulling me closer, and my hand on his shoulder is gripping the fabric of his dress shirt desperately.

  The car lurches to a stop. As do our bodies.

  An overwhelming heat rushes up to my face, blood pumping through every pore and ensnaring my skin with a scarlet hue.

  I feel lightheaded, almost as if letting go of Sir William's shoulders were going to cause me to fly away.

  I want another kiss, but I won't say that aloud.

  "I think we've arrived at my brother's…" Sir William says just as breathless as I feel.

  "Home…?" I say, looking out from the window.

  And indeed it is. All brick, stacked high into a manor surrounded by tall old trees. My master is outside of the door, expecting me to come back.

  A part of me doesn't want to go back, but another is wary of what will happen if I stay by Sir William too long.

  Reluctant, yet willing, I try to part ways from the blond, relaxing when he made no move to longer my stay with him.

  "Thank you, for everything."

  Sir William smiles and nods, taking my hand in his again and kissing it.

  "My pleasure."

 My legs felt like jelly when I'd exited the car, my fingers tracing absentmindedly on my lips.

  I walked up to my master, pulling back my kiss bitten lips with my teeth.

  "Hello." I bow, hiding the deep rouge on my cheeks.

  I hear Sir William's car drive off, and suddenly the silence between my master and I is overwhelming.

  "I hope you had fun." He says, clearly not meaning it.

  I sit up, looking my master in the eyes and nodding once,"Ah. I did."

  There's not much to say, but the way the Doctor looks at me with such repressed disdain, lets me know that it'd be best for me to leave right then instead of waiting to be dismissed.

  I make a move to flee, immediately being caught by my master's hand on my wrist. The fire in his cerulean irises ignites with such a force I don't even recall when my back hits the wall in the mansion.

  " _Him_." The Doctor starts gruffly, and I feel his nose brush against the crook of my neck.

  "You smell like him. That cheap cologne he fancies."

  My blood runs cold, yet my face is burning in shame.

  I feel extremely hypocritical.

  The perfume on my master's clothes and the cologne on mine, piece together all too neatly; a puzzle made of distrust and dishonesty, unspoken words and unfulfilled expectations.

  My hands fist his shirt as if to still the loud rapping of my heartbeat and the pitter-patter of my running thoughts.

  "Victor…" He pulls away from the juncture of my neck, and the look on his face is unreadable.

  The electricity I feel when he touches my face, cupping my cheeks and jaw with relative ease and a tenderness so alien for him, makes the metal valves on my neck spark.

  "Ah?" My master recoils slightly from the shock, the little telltale smirk on his lips enough to make my face glow hotter.

  "That only happens when I put you on the defibrillator."

  " _Victor_ …" I say his name a second time.

  "Don't you only spark up when your heart beats too fast?"

  "You're being relentless with me…" I croak out, feeling like a child who soiled their pants.  
  
  "Did you do that when you where with William?" His tone is so capturing, so possessive I feel like a mouse caught right in a trap; and the worst part is, I think I like it.

  "Do you know me at all…?" I huff, embarrassed. "I'm more behaved than that… No… I didn't." I don't want him to ask me to specify what it was that we did exactly.

  His hands grip my hips before trailing up my back in a manner so sensual it makes my legs shake and my hands tingle.

  A heat scorches my body, enveloping me and making the tightness in my chest squeeze me like a boa constrictor.

  My master's hands are so warm, almost burning the skin beneath the fabric of my shirt. He's pulling me closer, our hips bumping together in an almost clumsy excuse of grinding. We stay like that for a hot minute, breathing erratically in sync and looking at each other.

  "Frank."

  I don't think I can breathe.

  "You're… dismissed."

  I stop, unable to register the words that were spoken to me. I don't want him stop, we're so close I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, the sound reverberating off of my ribs and booming audibly in my chest.

  "What?" _No… Dismissed_ …?

  "You should…" the breath he lets out is akin to an airy moan, the grip the Doctor has on my waist loosing and tightening as if somehow he's debating on letting me go or not.

  "You should go to your chambers."

  "Master—"

  " _Victor_." He corrects me.

  My brows furrow, a rising protest dying instantly in my throat.

  We sit in silence, breathing, our bodies slotted together against the wall like pieces of a puzzle. It makes the desire to stay like this bubble from within me.

  "Are you… _sure_?"

  My question lingers in the air, shocking not only my master, but myself as well. It's a phrase so taboo and _forbidden_ for someone on a completely different power level to say to someone higher. It's so wrong, _so wrong_ for me to question an order for my master, to question his authority as a whole. Yet I can't stop myself from wrapping my arms around his neck.

  " _Frank_."

  This feels so dangerous, like I'm playing with fire again. My body is already on fire, burning my face, the tips of my ears, down my neck, past my navel…

  His lips brush mine as I tilt my head to look at him and _Oh_ if that happens again, I might take him to my chambers with me.

  _God, and every other deity. Every holy, celestial being out there. Have mercy_.

  "You're so _cold_." I say, even as he heats me up. Even as he makes my whole body burn; as if set ablaze like a gas stovetop.

  I press my chest flush against his, my arms tightening around the Doctor,"You're so distant, I just want to be close to you."

  The words feel like vomit, pouring from my throat and out of my mouth uncontrollably.

  I swallow, looking the Doctor dead in his eyes as I pull him impossibly closer with the arms locked around his neck. The motion puts emphasis on the words I'd just uttered.

  "I want…"

  _I can't seem to breathe._

  "You…"

  I want to say more; what I want him to do. I want to tell my master things like, _I want to talk to you more. I want you to talk to me more._ But I can't seem to say anything else. I want things from my master, sure, but I want… I _need_ the man himself more than anything.

  " _I want you._ "

  I say again, breathless and wanton.

  A choked noise is ripped from my master's throat before he's kissing me. It feels too familiar, yet strange, and my knees buckle. My legs almost give out when his teeth bite ever so slightly on the side of my mouth. Just the feeling of his lips are so electric, making my heart beat hard and fast against my ribcage.

  "Frank. You need to go to your room," he says, voice deep and apathetic. His eyes are closed, but not squeezed shut, he looks calm, yet his brows are knitted slightly, shining a light to the frustration in his cool façade.

  I want to ask him to come with me, to beckon him closer as if he's my prey instead of it being the other way around.

  "Frank, _go_." He murmurs firmly, and I unhook my arms from his neck. My brows furrow angrily, my nose scrunched up and my lips twisted into a frown.

  "Fine."

  My expression and shoulders relax as I disconnect myself from my master. My gaze is hard when we lock eyes. I sneer.

  " _I'm used to being brushed off anyway_."

  I haughtily tilt my chin up and storm up the stairs to my room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter got you going, and if you hate Sir Ernest, I'm sorry, you'll see a lot of him next chapter, and it'll definitely be as long as this one. ;^0


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